More Important Than Fear
by mariposa510
Summary: On a teaching trip to Colombia, Maura is kidnapped by a paramilitary group. She will need all her strength to survive in the jungle, and Jane will need plenty of strength of her own to bring her home. Not Rizzles (sorry!)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just to clarify, I have never been to Colombia. All I know about this situation is what I have read in the news and books, which probably has some stuff wrong and I'm sure doesn't cover all sides of the story. Any errors are my own, and I hope no one is offended by anything I may write. Also, as always, I don't own any of the characters and all that disclaimer jazz.**

* * *

_Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. —Ambrose Redmoon _

* * *

Jane sat in the Division One Cafe and pushed her bunny rabbit pancakes around on her plate. It had been an incredibly slow week for homicide, and as loathe as Jane was to admit it, she was bored.

And to make matters worse, her best friend was out of the country. It figured that the one week they would actually have had the time to spend some time together outside of work, Maura wasn't even here.

Angela walked up and refilled her daughter's glass of orange juice, glancing reproachfully at the uneaten food on Jane's plate. "Do you want me to make you a hamburger, sweetheart?"

"No, thanks, Ma." To appease her mother, Jane forced herself to eat a bite of one of the bunny's ears. "Pancakes are great," she said through a mouthful of food.

Raising an eyebrow at Jane's manners, Angela asked, "When was the last time you talked to Maura?"

Jane sighed. Sometimes it felt like her mother could read her like a book. She missed Maura, and Angela knew it. "We talked on Skype three days ago. She said the classes are going well, and she was going to go visit a nearby village the day before yesterday. Seems like she's having a grand ole time."

Angela smacked her daughter in the shoulder with the dish towel she was holding. "Jane! You shouldn't pout. It'll give you forehead wrinkles."

"Ow!" Jane yelped, although it was more out of reflex than any actual pain. "I'm not pouting! I just wish she hadn't decided to go, that's all. Who spends their vacation time in Colombia, anyway?"

Angela patted Jane's arm and nodded. "I know she's doing a good thing, going down there to teach classes to their medical examiners...but I just wish she didn't have to go somewhere so dangerous!"

Jane smiled, and squeezed her mother's hand. "Don't worry so much, Ma..." She smirked a little, "It'll give you forehead wrinkles."

Angela laughed and shook her head. "You want a cup of coffee, sweetheart?"

"No thanks, Ma," Jane said as she stood up from the table. "I should get back upstairs and get started on that backlog of case reports. I'll call you later about dinner."

She turned to leave the cafe and saw Korsak hurrying inside, his face grim. For a moment, she thought maybe they finally had a case...but as he came closer, she realized that whatever this was, it was much bigger and more personal than a simple murder.

"Jane," Korsak said, "There's a problem."

Her heart plummeted when she heard his next words.

"It's Doctor Isles. She's missing."

* * *

It had been a hot day; so hot they had rolled down all the windows in the car to let in the breeze and fresh air. The drive was pleasant, and the view of the sun going down over the mountainous jungle had been breathtaking.

They were taking a risk, driving back to town so late. The local doctor had asked them to stay the night, but Maura wanted to start early the next morning with her students, identifying a set of remains pulled from underneath a shed, and Don Julio had agreed. Raul, their driver, had seemed the most nervous, but they were making good time, and he relaxed as they passed the midway point.

Don Julio was telling stories and making them all laugh so hard that Maura had to ask him to stop, for fear that Raul would crash the car over a cliff. Don Julio, the older soft-spoken administrator for the medico-legal complex, could be outrageously funny if anyone stopped long enough to listen. He had personally chosen Raul for their driver, and Maura was glad that he had. Raul was quick to smile and laugh, polite without a hint of machismo, and most importantly, a careful and attentive driver.

That had been two days ago. Or was it three? It was hard for Maura to keep count of the days. It already felt like half a lifetime. Had it really been less than a week?

Less than a week since their car had been forced off the road by two jeeps filled with paramilitary men armed with AK-47s.

Two of the men had wrenched open Maura's door, pulled her out, and shoved her to her knees on the road. Don Julio was shouting, trying to tell the men who they were. Her wrists had been tied behind her, and the last thing she saw was the same being done to Don Julio before a black sack was thrown over her head.

She felt herself being thrown into the jeep, shoved down into the floorboard of the backseat. There was more shouting coming from the direction of their car...Raul, she thought...and then she heard three quick shots from an AK-47, and an explosion that could only have been their car going up in flames. She squeezed her eyes shut, and choked back a sob, wishing desperately that she could cover her ears with her hands.

Three men climbed into the backseat, their heavy boots resting on her shoulder, hip, and thigh, pinning her to the floorboard. Then they took off into the jungle, Maura's head bouncing painfully against the floor of the jeep.

The whole thing had taken about 90 seconds. She'd say this for her captors: they were efficient.

About an hour and several dozen bruises later, the jeep finally slowed to a stop. She was yanked out of the jeep by her ankles, and the hood was ripped off. She was in a paramilitary camp, a clearing filled with half a dozen ramshackle buildings, stacks of ammunition, and soldiers sitting around smoking and cleaning their guns by the light of kerosene lamps. All of them looked at her, and a few let out whistles and catcalls as she was ushered through the camp.

She caught sight of Don Julio for the first time since the raid, and she breathed a sigh of relief that he appeared unharmed. They were shoved toward the smallest building, and one of the soldiers opened a padlock on the door.

The building was simply constructed, with four posts sunk into the the ground at the corners, and rough-hewn planks making up the four walls between them with a thatched roof above. Each of the sunken posts had a length of chain padlocked around it. Maura and Don Julio were taken to the corners at the far side of the building. One of the soldiers held Maura against the post while another bent, pulled up her pants leg to expose the top of her boot, and wrapped the chain tight around her ankle. He padlocked it in place and both men stepped back. Another two had done the same for Don Julio, and when they were finished they left their captives alone, padlocking the door on their way out.

Maura, trembling slightly and in shock over the sudden turn of events, looked at Don Julio. The older man sunk to the floor, looking frightened, but also calm and almost resigned. When Maura had asked how he could be so calm, he smiled sadly and said, "This has been a threat for all of my life, Doctora. It is a sad fact of life in my country, and one we are trying desperately to change. I suppose I'm lucky that I made it this long without it happening. I'm only sorry you were caught up in it as well."

Still shivering despite the heat, Maura lowered herself to sit on the dirt floor as well. She leaned back against the post and tried to calm her breathing. "What happens next?" she asked quietly. "Ransom demands?"

Don Julio nodded. "This is the paramilitary version of fundraising. The rebel groups kidnap people, and ransom them back to their families and governments for money to buy more guns, ammunition, and supplies. If we are lucky, we will only be here a few days, maybe a couple of weeks."

Maura frowned, "And if we aren't lucky? I've read accounts of people being held prisoner by these groups for years."

Don Julio only sighed in response and said, "Perhaps we should try to get some sleep."

There was no comfortable way to lie down with her hands still tied behind her and a chain locked around her ankle. Not to mention her mind was still racing, and her autonomic nervous functions were still in overdrive from the rush of adrenaline. She leaned against the post as best she could and tried to calm her body with a meditation technique. Breathing deeply, she felt her heart rate begin to slow. Finally, she felt herself drifting off to sleep, but her dreams were filled with gunshots, fiery cars, and skeletal remains digging their way up from underneath the shack in which she slept.


	2. Chapter 2

"What exactly do we mean by _missing_?" Jane demanded once they were back upstairs in the brick.

Korsak started to lay it out. "She and a Colombian colleague were headed back from a visit to a local village hospital the day before yesterday. When they didn't make it back that night, the local cops got worried and sent a patrol out to find them."

He pulled up some photos that the Colombian authorities had sent over. "This is all they found." Both scenes showed a burned out car on the side of the road in the middle of the jungle.

Jane swallowed and closed her eyes. She forced herself to ask, "Did they find any bodies?"

"Just one," Korsak replied. He flipped to the next photo, and Jane was relieved to see that it definitely wasn't Maura. "This is Raul Vasquez, Dr. Isle's driver."

Jane felt a pang of sympathy, and imagined that Maura must be upset about what had happened to the man. If she even knew he was dead, that is.

"What about Maura?" she pressed.

Korsak shrugged, "There's no sign of her or the Colombian administrator. The local authorities think they may have been kidnapped by one of the paramilitary rebel groups in the area."

"God..." Jane had heard stories about those groups. Rebels had been fighting for decades in Colombia, and they didn't have the most gentle reputation, especially with foreigners.

"It might not be as bad as it seems, Jane," Korsak tried to reassure her. "Most of these groups just want money. Hopefully, we'll get a ransom demand for her in the next couple of days. As long as someone pays the money, she'll be released. Unfortunately, it happens all the time."

"And until then, Korsak?" Jane started to pace. "We just sit on our hands? We should be doing something!"

"What exactly do you want us to do, Jane?" Korsak challenged. "What can we do? It's half a world away, in a different country."

Korsak's voice softened. "The Colombians deal with this type of situation a lot, Jane. We have to trust that they'll bring her home safely."

"Yeah, I know, " Jane sighed.

She turned to leave, and Korsak called out after her. "What are you gonna do, Jane?"

"I have to go tell my mother." She grimaced and sighed again, "And I'd really rather do anything other than that right now. She's gonna be worried sick."

* * *

Maura and Don Julio were awoken the next morning by four soldiers bursting into the shack. As before, one of the soldiers lifted Maura off the ground and pinned her to the post, while another released her ankle from the chain.

She was shoved out the door and across the compound once again. She noticed women this time, cooking over outdoor hearths and watching her curiously, but without compassion.

The group reached the largest building in the camp, and they were pulled through the door and forced on their knees once again. Maura felt a flutter of fear at being so helpless in a room full of angry men with guns, but she tried not to let it show on her face. She very much doubted that showing weakness would help her here.

A man sat on a chair in front of them. He was young, maybe 35, and he wore battered but clean army fatigues and a red bandana headband. He had a handsome but serious face and cold, calculating eyes. It was instantly clear that this was the man in charge. In his right hand was a hunting knife, and he was currently using it to casually slice an apple.

The man looked up after a moment and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He held out a slice of apple with the knife as if offering it to them. Maura was starving, but she didn't dare say anything. So the man raised his eyebrows, shrugged, and ate the apple slice himself. Tossing the rest of the apple to another soldier, he rested the knife on his knee and turned his cold eyes on his captives.

He regarded her for a moment before his gaze slid to Don Julio. "_Nombres_," he said, and it was clearly a demand, not a question.

Don Julio answered for both of them. "_Soy Julio Reyes Garcia, y esta es Doctora Maura Isles_."

The leader's eyes slid back to Maura, but his question was directed at Don Julio. "_Y de donde es?_"

"_Los Estados Unidos, señor_," Don Julio replied.

Holding her gaze, the man switched immediately to English. "Ah, you are from America. I have been to America once. Where are you from there?"

Maura hesitated a moment, but then remembered Don Julio's advice to answer any questions as soon as they were asked.

"Boston," she answered quietly.

"Boston," he repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth. "That is in New York, yes?"

She shook her head. "Massachusetts."

He clicked his tongue and nodded. "Ah, yes. And do you have children, _Doctora_?"

Maura shook her head again.

He cocked his head to one side. "Married?"

"No." She shifted a bit, hoping he didn't take that answer as an invitation.

"_Novio_?" _Boyfriend_, her brain automatically translated.

"No," she answered yet again.

He clucked his tongue again and shook his head, as if she had somehow failed his little quiz. "Do you have any _familia_?"

_Well, that's a loaded question_, she thought. How was she supposed to answer that one? _Let's see, there's my adoptive parents, my mob boss father, the birth mother who just found out I was alive, the half-sister I gave a kidney to recently. And my best friend, whose family I'm closer to than any of my own. _

Deciding to go with the simplest answer, she replied, "My parents."

He nodded, and looked at her almost sympathetically. "Such a shame. A woman should be surrounded by family. A husband to support her and children to take care of. But I know it is not always this way in America. You are one of those women whose career is more important, no? What do you do in Boston? Do you work in a hospital?"

Maura's cheeks had reddened as he spoke. It wasn't the first time she had encountered this attitude, particularly here in Colombia. But it was the first time someone had said all of it to her face, and it irked her.

She straightened her spine a bit as she answered, "I'm the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

At his blank look, she realized she would have to explain a bit more. "When people die, it's my job to examine the body and determine how they died, and if it was an accident, natural causes, or murder. I do this for the entire city of Boston."

"Murder," he repeated, and leaned forward. "So you work for the _policia_." His eyes had gone hard again, and Maura shrank back a bit in fear.

"Sometimes," she said in a small voice. "Sometimes I work _with_ the police, but not _for_ them."

The leader did not move. He stared into her eyes, and Maura realized that this could be a very, very dangerous man. "And what are you doing in my country, so far from home, _Doctora_? Are you working with the police here?"

She glanced at Don Julio, and his eyes were worried. It was times like this that she wished desperately that she were capable of lying. At least she could tell half truths. She shook her head, "I'm here to teach a class, that's all. I'm here to help train other doctors in Colombia. I don't have anything to do with police cases here." _Except as case studies for the training classes_, she thought, but she kept that part to herself.

The leader stared at her for a full minute, and Maura tried not to fidget under his unrelenting gaze. He made her nervous, but she supposed that was the point. He wanted to be sure she knew just how dangerous he was.

After a moment, the man's gaze shifted back to Don Julio, and he asked the same questions of her colleague.

When the leader was satisfied with the answers, he leaned back in his chair once more and surveyed them both. "I do not know how long you will be with us," he stated. "If you are lucky, your ransom will be paid soon. If you are unlucky, it will take time. One thing you should know." He leaned forward to punctuate his point. "I do not lie. If I tell you that you will be safe, then you will be safe. And if I tell you that you will die tomorrow, then you will know that you have one night to make peace with _Dios_. For now, you are safe. If you do not do as we say, or if you lie to me, that will change."

He sat back again, pulled another apple from his jacket pocket, and began to slice it. His men apparently knew that this was the signal to end the conversation, because they immediately moved forward to pull the captives to their feet.

Maura and Don Julio were dragged from the room and chained up once again in the little shack. Maura breathed a sigh of relief to finally be out of the leader's presence. She rolled her shoulders, trying to stretch out her arms that were still tied behind her back. Her stomach growled, and she hoped that their captors would give them something to eat soon. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before, and she knew she would need all her strength to get through this.

She glanced over at Don Julio, and he gave her a small smile of encouragement. They had survived the first test. Now they would see what came next.


End file.
